


Leaving Home

by doctorkilljoy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And needs to learn to live his own life, Bucky is a worry wart, Connie is a helpful friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Separation Anxiety, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkilljoy/pseuds/doctorkilljoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is leaving for the war tomorrow. He still hasn't packed his bags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Home

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! I have a new fic for you guys. And huge thanks to my friend [GreenDayAngel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenDayAngel/pseuds/GreenDayAngel) for beta reading once again.

Bucky had been staring at the empty bag on his bed for nearly an hour. He didn’t own much, and it wasn’t as though there were a lot of things he was going to need over in Europe anyway. But he hadn’t been able to pack a single damned thing. And the more he looked around, the more it crashed into him. He was leaving the country tomorrow morning. He was going to war, and there was a chance he wasn’t coming back. And he knew if he packed that bag, it was final.

He’d paced the apartment, he’d tried to bully himself into doing it, but it didn’t work. There was too much going through Bucky’s head. It wasn’t just about the war or his enlistment or his pending orders. It was mostly Steve. His Steve, who was a punk and a complete idiot.

Steve could take care of himself in a general sense. He could hold down a job, and he was going to art school. But the problem was Steve had an iron will and a black-and-white sense of right and wrong; he didn’t have the physique to back it up. It was pretty well known that Steve didn’t like bullies, and he’d stand up to them any time he happened across them. Of course, then those bullies would usually beat the tar out of Steve.

Bucky couldn’t count the number of occasions when Steve came by the orphanage with injuries when they were kids. His face would be bloody, he’d be limping, and Bucky’s heart would plummet. Bucky would tend to Steve, then would go out and find whoever had decided to turn his friend into hamburger meat. Sure, Steve got beaten up, but, usually, it only happened once. Bucky didn’t just fight to defend Steve; he liked to fight, and he would visit savage, bloody retribution on whoever hurt the boy.

It had gotten to the point that there were whispers around the neighborhood. There was “something funny about that Barnes kid and the Rogers boy”. Thankfully, no one ever repeated those rumors around Steve, but Bucky heard them plenty of times. If anyone was stupid enough to ask, Bucky would punch their lights out.

He didn’t think there was anything wrong with homosexuals (despite what everyone said), but he kept that opinion to himself. Sure, the church would preach “love thy neighbor”, but there seemed to be a lot of exceptions to that rule. People of color, gays, and immigrants… Really anyone the priests and nuns thought were out of the ordinary and therefore beneath them. He now had a policy that, if the church said it was righteous, there was a pretty good chance it wasn’t.

When Bucky actually took the time to read the Bible, he decided that, if God really had a problem with gay people, they wouldn’t be around; period. But Bucky would be damned if anyone thought that about Steve. There were enough problems with the assumptions people made about him as it was.

And that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Bucky didn’t want to go to war and then come home to find that Steve was in a coma or dead. Because he could be beaten, he could be hurt, and more than likely would be. It was why he was always so worried about Steve trying to enlist. He was out that day, and Bucky was pretty sure that’s exactly what he was attempting. Again.

He had tried to explain that Steve was doing his duty right here at home. Working the jobs that were vacant because other guys were away was a huge part of the war effort. Everyone was doing their part, even the girls they were going out with that night; they both worked in a munitions factory. But Steve wouldn’t listen. He said the same thing over and over about other men laying down their lives.

And it made Bucky’s heart fill with dread any time he thought about Steve being accepted into the Army. He hoped that they were never desperate enough to take him, but a 4F brand was a pretty hard thing to get around, so he was safe for now. But Bucky knew, if things went south--and they’d have to go pretty far south--the Army would make exceptions, and Steve would get his wish. It might have been mean to think so, but Bucky knew that Steve wouldn’t survive basic training, let alone the front.

That’s what it kept coming back to. Bucky was leaving, and he wouldn’t be there to protect Steve anymore. And Steve needed to be protected, especially from himself. He was just so damned hard-headed and stubborn. It was admirable in some respects but infuriating in others. But for Bucky, it was a nightmare. Steve was the best thing in his life, and he didn’t want to lose him because Steve felt he had to prove himself. There was nothing to prove; Steve was the best. If only he knew that.

Finally, too frustrated and worried to bother concentrating, Bucky walked out of the room to go get ready. He could pack his things when he returned that night.

~*~*~*~

Of course, he hadn’t been planning on having company when he came back, but he’d been too drunk to make it home on his own. Connie, however, had been an angel and helped him back to his apartment.

“Come on Sarge, almost there,” she said, steering him to the bed. She wasn’t carrying him so much as directing him.

“M’ fine,” Bucky replied, but he plopped on the bed and rolled over. He felt some discomfort, and then realized he was laying on the empty bag. He managed to get it out from beneath himself tossed it to the side.

Connie saw that and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be packed?”  
“Not going,” Bucky replied.

“You’re gonna go AWOL?” She asked, but it wasn’t in a mean or strict tone.

“Gotta look out f’r Steve,” he mumbled.

Connie sighed. She’d heard a lot of this in the past few weeks, and she had Bucky roll over onto his back so that he was looking at her. She sat on the edge of the bed and said, “James Buchanan Barnes, I want you to listen to me, okay?”

He blinked, bleary-eyed but paying attention. “What?”

“Steve Rogers is a grown man, and I know you worry, and think you’re the only person who looks out for him. But that’s not what Steve needs, and he can take care of himself. You can’t live your life based around whether or not he gets hurt, because it’s YOUR life. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Bucky was a little confused, but, when the words sunk in, he said, “I don’t care, I’m gonna look out for him.”

“You already are,” she pointed out. “You’re in the Army, and you’re going to war for people like us who can’t. You really want to look out for him? Keep yourself alive and keep fighting. And when you get home, start living your own life. I doubt that he’d want you to be miserable with worry all the time.”

Bucky had to admit that she had a point, but a thought crossed his mind. “What do you mean by ‘us’?”

“Steve can’t go to war because he’s frail. I can’t go because I’m a woman,” Connie said.

When the penny dropped, a lot more about Connie made sense now. Especially as she worked munitions, most women avoided that like the plague. “You could still enlist.”

“Sure, as a nurse or a secretary or something. I’d rather work here at home. I may not be on the front line, but making shells is sure more useful than typing. Now, if we could get Steve to think the same thing, I think you’d probably be in better shape.”

“I love him,” Bucky blurted out. When he said it, he knew it was true, and that’s what had been really bothering him all day. He loved Steve, as more than a brother. If he hadn’t been drinking for most of the night, he wouldn’t have said a word about it to Connie. For her part, she didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

“I thought you might. He’s a good friend. And like I told Bonnie, I think he’d make a good boyfriend.”

Bucky flushed at that. “Are you—“

“I’m not saying you two are or aren’t, I’m just saying he’d be a good boyfriend.”

Bucky smiled and touched Connie’s hair, telling her, “I knew I liked you.”

“I like you too, Sarge. So make sure you come back, so we can go dancing again.” Connie got up but bent over and kissed Bucky’s forehead. “Get some sleep.”

“Thank you, Connie,” he mumbled, and then he blacked out. 

~*~*~*~*~

He woke up to his alarm clock going off fairly early in the morning. Bucky’s hand shot out to silence the annoying ring. He sat up, groaning. The alcohol from the night before was really catching up with him. Bucky rubbed his eyes and realized two things: One, it was six in the morning, and he had to be at the docks in an hour and a half; Two, he hadn’t packed his bag last night like he’d promised himself.

But when he bolted out of bed, he tripped right over the bag. It had been packed already, and Bucky didn’t have to ask who’d done it. He found a note pinned to his door from Connie. It was pretty simple. “Good luck, and don’t forget to write.” Her address was at the bottom.

He wouldn’t forget. Because she was right. He was protecting Steve by doing this. And he had to be his own person. He’d leave for Europe, and he’d come back to his friends.

He’d come back to Steve.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://talkingcinemalight.tumblr.com)


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